Little Elven Lords: A New Friend
by ErynLasgalen26
Summary: Elrond, Glorfindel and the fiveyear old Twins spend a day in the woods and meet old and new friends


Disclaimer: I own nothing of Middle-earth, though I do thank JRR Tolkien for creating this wonderful world. The characters and places are used for non-profit purposes only, so please don't sue me.  
  
Summary: First story in what I have titled "The Little Elven Lords"-Series. Elrond, Glorfindel and the five-year old Twins spend a day in the woods and meet old and new friends  
  
Author's comments: Reviews are very welcome, but please be nice.. (  
  
*text* = italics; //text// = thoughts  
  
A NEW FRIEND  
  
It was a warm and cloudless summer's day in the fair Elven haven of Imladris. Golden light filled the deep valley in which the city lay, the gentle breeze stirring the lavish green leaves of the forests and carrying with it the song of birds and the hum of insects. The distant crashing of a waterfall and the serene rush of the Bruinen River that flowed through the valley were the only sounds to be heard and all seemed content.  
  
At least until a piercing cry ripped through the peaceful façade, instantly joined by a wailing no less powerful.  
  
"No ada!! I wants to do it!" The shrill voice of a child demanded angrily. "Alone." A tiny foot stomped onto the soft grass on the edge of the river.  
  
Elrond, Lord of Rivendell, stood on the banks of the Bruinen next to his twin sons, Elladan and Elrohir, who were right at this moment glaring at him with identical, flushed, heart-shaped faces and blazing dark blue eyes. Though barely five years old the Elflings' expressions were spitting images of their father's which amused the second Elf that stood nearby greatly.  
  
"Elladan, you can not shoot an arrow all by yourself." Elrond gazed into his elder son's angry face. "And neither can you, Elrohir," he added somewhat as an afterthought, when he noticed the younger twin's face light up instantly.  
  
"But why, ada?" Elladan wailed, ever since he had watched his father and Glorfindel, the golden haired Elf Lord who was his father's best friend, as they had practiced target-shooting that morning he was eager to have a go too, for he was no child anymore. Oh, perhaps he was a bit short, but that did not hinder him from becoming a great warrior as his father was, did it?  
  
"Why ada?" Elrohir echoed his brother's question, looking at Glorfindel for support, but the elder only bit his tongue to keep from laughing, mirth glittering in the blue depths of his eyes.  
  
Elrond resisted to the urge to roll his eyes. Sometimes these two could really be more than he could possibly deal with, which was of course nonsense, for he had led armies into battles and had made decisions that meant life or death. Ilúvatar, these were his own children!  
  
"You cannot shoot an arrow now, Elladan, because this bow is much too big for you." He held up the weapon in question, a longbow from Lothlórien that was nearly one and a half times as big as his sons.  
  
Elladan glanced at the bow. "Is not. I can shoot, ada." Huge blue eyes glared defiantly at millennia-old ones of nearly the same colour.  
  
"Me too!" Elrohir piped up, although Elrond had foolishly started to hope that his younger son would perhaps let his twin lead this fight.  
  
Luckily the discussion, that would have likely only found an end in tears, was interrupted by the clatter of hooves on the forest path just beyond the trees.  
  
"Horsie!" Elrohir squealed, dashing off at lightning speed, closely followed by his brother and the two Elf Lords who tried desperately not to lose the children from sight.  
  
Though Imladris was well protected by the magic of the Elves, it was still not safe for two innocents to run around unsupervised, especially with strangers close by.  
  
Elrohir had always had an affinity for horses, much more so than his brother and it was nearly impossible to keep him away from the stables for longer than half a day.  
  
When Elrond and Glorfindel finally burst out of the dense foliage that bordered the wayside the twins were nowhere to be seen.  
  
"Find them!" Elrond snapped, unable to stop himself from directing his anger at himself at his best friend.  
  
Glorfindel nodded and rushed off followed by Elrond, tracking the path to a bend some hundred yards down the mountain.  
  
"ELLADAN!!" Elrond called, it was eerily still and his voice boomed in the warm morning air.  
  
"Ada! Horsie!" It was Elrohir that answered and as the two men rounded the bend a sigh of relief escaped the Elven Lords lips.  
  
Standing by the wayside was a magnificent white stallion, its mane shimmering in the bright light, yet it was the person next to it that caused both Lords to smile. For standing on the ground next to the horse was none other that Thranduil, King of Mirkwood, holding Elladan on one arm and Elrohir on his other, the King's own son, Legolas, was perched atop his father's shoulders, grinning shyly at the new arrivals.  
  
"Mae govannen, Thranduil." Elrond bowed slightly before the Silvan Elf, reaching out and plucking Elladan from the King's arm. "Let me relieve you of these burdens." He winked and handed his firstborn to Glorfindel, who greeted the King in similar fashion.  
  
"Elrond, my old friend, you ought to keep a better eye on these boys of yours." The King admonished lightly.  
  
Elrond laughed. "Oh, but one cannot have enough eyes to keep on these two. I swear, someday they will wear me out and I shall grow grey hair ere this summer is over."  
  
Both Thranduil and Glorfindel erupted into laughter, the twins looking at their father with an odd expression on their faces.  
  
"Grey like Mithrandir, ada?" Elrohir's little hand tugged on a strand of his father's long, mahogany hair.  
  
"Ada, will *you* get grey hairs?" A second voice chirped at the same moment, a chubby hand pounding the top of the King's head rather roughly.  
  
Thranduil cast Elrond a withering glare, but it was Glorfindel who saved them both from answering.  
  
"Would this happen to be young Legolas, Mylord?" the golden haired warrior inquired, smiling at the Prince who seemed somewhat intimidated.  
  
Plucking his son from his shoulders and setting him firmly on the ground Thranduil nudged the lad forward. "Indeed it is, Glorfindel." The King smiled warmly at his son who had retreated behind his father's leg. "Where are your manners, little Greenleaf. Greet the Lord Glorfindel properly now, as I have taught you."  
  
Stepping forward hesitantly, huge grey-blue eyes lowered shyly to the ground, the young Prince placed his right hand against his heart and bowed slightly, a tiny voice whispering: "Mae govannen, Lord 'findel." Glorfindel, who was still holding Elladan, managed to bow quite elegantly as he smiled at the Prince, hoping to reassure the child a little and not scare it even more. "Mae govannen, Legolas. It is an honour to meet you, Your Highness."  
  
The tiny being straightened and dashed back to safety behind his father's leg.  
  
Legolas, Prince of Mirkwood, had been born a year after Elladan and Elrohir and he was and would ever be the Silvan King's only son and Heir, for Legolas' mother, Queen Tinewen had died at childbirth. Now it was up to Thranduil to raise his son, but not only as a father would for it was also his duty to raise the next King of his people.  
  
"Ada, can we play with him?" Elrohir bounced on his father's arm, pointing his finger in the direction of the tiny golden-haired Prince.  
  
"Yes, play!" Elladan chimed in. "With him!" He too pointed a stubby finger at Legolas, who at this point was fairly trembling where he stood, partly shielded by his father.  
  
Elrond set Elrohir down, holding the tiny hand firmly so the boy could not escape again. Crouching low to be able to look the Prince in the eyes, the Lord of Imladris held out his free hand and waited.  
  
A few seconds later a tiny, pale hand reached out hesitantly and grasped the Elf Lord's larger one, then the boy stepped forward, warily eyeing Elrohir, for the Silvan Prince had not yet encountered many children his age and never before had he seen two that looked exactly alike.  
  
Elrond let go of Elrohir's hand and instead laid his hand on his son's shoulder. "Legolas, this is my son, Elrohir. Would you like to play with him?"  
  
Eyeing the dark haired Noldorin Elf, Legolas contemplated for a few moments before nodding hesitantly.  
  
Elrohir's face lit up in a brilliant smile and he gripped the Princes hand, ready to rush off at any second.  
  
"Me play too!!" Elladan screamed, causing Glorfindel to wince and rub his hear somewhat tartly before setting down the squirming little body.  
  
Dashing to his brother's side Elladan grabbed Legolas' other hand, ready to haul the Prince away, but their undertaking was stopped by all three adults as they closed in around the Elflings.  
  
"We have a camp just beyond those trees there," Elrond indicated to where they had come from, "join us and rest, for your journey has been long and no doubt tiring. The children can play at the river's edge, they will not be harmed."  
  
Thranduil nodded and took his horse's reins and watched in astonishment as the children ran a few steps ahead, Legolas face aglow with glee. It seemed that he was already comfortable in the presence of the Sons of Elrond. Astonishing really, for Legolas was generally a shy and quiet child.  
  
When they reached the camp Thranduil let his stallion graze and then dropped down next to Elrond and Glorfindel, who had seated themselves in the shade of an ancient oak tree.  
  
"Pray tell, Thranduil, what brings you all the way to Imladris?" Elrond handed the King a flask filled with cool water from the river, his gaze always roaming to where the three Elflings were splashing in the shallow waters of the riverbank. Thranduil rubbed the bridge of his nose thoughtfully. "To be quite honest, I was desperate to escape the palace for some time. Besides, I wanted Legolas to see the world and what better place to start than your beautiful realm."  
  
Elrond glanced at Glorfindel who nodded slightly. Of course the King would want to escape the palace, he most likely never got the chance to properly mourn his wife's passing or spend one moment with his son without having advisors hovering around him at all times.  
  
"Well, we are glad you came and of course you are most welcome to stay as long as you like. The doors of Imladris are always open to the House of Mirkwood." The Noldorin Lord reclined on his elbow, letting the noonday sun's warm rays lull him into a light slumber that was rudely disturbed as a tiny wet body barrelled into him full force.  
  
"Come swim, ada!" Elladan was already busy pulling his startled father to his feet, Elrohir trying the same with Glorfindel, who would of course have none of it.  
  
Legolas stood a few feet away, hugging his arms to his body and chattering fiercely, for the water of the Bruinen was melt water from the snows high up in the Misty Mountains and therefore rather chilly, even in summer. His blonde hair hung down limply, the braids that held it out of his face had come partly undone and the pink points of his ears poked through the wet tangle.  
  
Seeing the pitiful sight Thranduil wrapped his cloak around his son, holding the little bundle close to him, a proud smile on his fair face.  
  
Realizing that they too were in fact freezing, the twins rushed to their father, who instantly draped warm cloaks around their shoulders. "Perhaps you should rest a little until you are warm again, then you can play some more," Elrond suggested and smiled as the twins cuddled up, Elladan in his lap and Elrohir in Glorfindel's, their eyes drooping slightly.  
  
"Glorfy, tell us a story." Elrohir looked up at the Elf whom he had gotten to know just as well as his father.  
  
"Yes, tell us about the Balrog, Glorfy." Elladan supported his brother's request, not noticing when the elder Elf winced with the memories. Of course the Sons of Elrond had heard all about Glorfindel's battle against the Balrog, but he did not wish to relive this memory on such a fine day.  
  
"I will tell you a story," Thranduil offered, looking down at his own son whose eyes were half closed and unfocused, fast asleep. "I shall tell you of a land far away, where there lived a young Prince in a palace in the woods."  
  
The King's deep, soothing voice and the warmth of the late summer afternoon had finally worked their magic and within minutes the Little Lords of Imladris had fallen fast asleep. 


End file.
